


Wild Card

by 1JettaPug, TanookiRoxx



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bets & Wagers, Bondage and Discipline, Contracts, Daddy Kink, Debt, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Handcuffs, Implied Relationships, Light Bondage, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Slave, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poker, Repaying Debt, Slash, Spanking, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanookiRoxx/pseuds/TanookiRoxx
Summary: Growing tired of the hand life had dealt him, Vinnie sets out to change his fortune with a bit of gambling. But when the cards are dealt will he really be the one with the winning hand? He may just end up hanging on at the end of his rope, if he doesn't play right.
Relationships: Ace Frehley/Tommy Thayer, Paul Stanley/Tommy Thayer, Paul Stanley/Vinnie Vincent (KISS)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A multi-chaptered story in the making by Tanooki and myself. A thanks to her and a thanks to the readers who go along with us and our shenanigans.

Two pink guitar picks clicked together in his pocket as Vinnie strode out onto the casino floor, closely watching the people he passed by. Sad souls. Greedy bastards. People that were struggling for cash and decided on this place, of all places, as their last chance of wealth. Others that had the money and decided to do this for fun, draining their accounts just to satiate a never ending craving of greed. He could see the look on their faces; their desperate hunger and desire for the next big hit.

All that was found here was misery. The broken look in a man's eye when he’d just lost a year’s worth of rent in one game. He had seen many people play these games with their own loved ones, only to leave in the end. He had seen people so sick and beaten by life that even the most brutal of death had seemed like mercy... 

Vinnie didn't want to end up like them. The very thought of being the man hugging the slot machine like it was his wife or child made his stomach turn. He had been invited, though, and it was rude to turn down an invitation from the richest man in town.

“Rum and coke for you, sugar?” He smiled politely at the woman approaching him, placing down a glass as he watched the roulette wheel spin.

"No, ma'am, I'm just here to find the poker tables.” he told her, glancing around her exposed body to try and find his destination.

Before the waitress could respond, a loud, boisterous cackling caught Vinnie’s attention. He looked over to the source of the noise. Dozens of people were crowded around this one particular card table. The drinks were flowing, thick clouds of cigar smoke lingered in the air and gorgeous semi-clad women cheered and clung to this lanky man who was racking in tons of poker chips. 

Vinnie approached the table in curiosity. Around it sat five determined men; the laughing lanky man, a gruff, cynical looking man, a sly looking man with a poofy mane, a blond haired man with a shit eating grin, smacking his gum loudly, and a very tall, stoic man. All of them were high rollers with hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line. Vinnie gaped in awe. He had never seen so much money in his life! These winnings could easily secure him time at a professional recording studio.

“So, Bruce what’s it going to be?” the lanky man asked casually, taking a sip from a beer bottle wedged in between the large breasts of a blonde woman, who was all too happy to shove her cleavage in his face.

“C’mon Brucie! Show ‘em what you’re made of,” encouraged the sly poofy haired man enthusiastically. 

“He doesn’t have the balls…” smirked the cynical looking man with the look of a cat who just caught the prized canary.

The blond haired man merely shook his head in pity. “Damn, Bruce, There goes your money for that sweet beach condo in Turks and Caicos. Which reminds me… How are you gonna afford your mortgage this month? I’m sure Paul could loan you the money,” he taunted in between loud gum smacks.

His comment prompted several nervous chuckles around the table.

An uneasy look washed over the tall, stoic man, who Vinnie guessed must be Bruce. He glanced down at his cards with a furrowed brow and then looked up at the grinning lanky man.

“I fold,” he said with a respective head bow, placing his losing hand on the table gently.

“Another one bites the dust, boys!” the lanky man cackled loudly. “You’re always such a careful man, Bruce. You never throw caution to the wind like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, how does it feel to be such a pussy?” jeered the cynical man, staring Bruce down with the cold, judgmental eyes of a predator ready to pounce.

“Easy there, Catman, Bruce’s sensitive, remember? We don’t want him crying on us like he did the last time he got his ass pounded into last Tuesday,” chuckled the blond man, eyeing down Bruce as if he hoped the taller man would cause a scene.

“Brucie! You gonna let these clowns keep shit talking you like that?! You gotta get back in there, man, and protect your dignity! You’re only down by 9k, you can afford it,” smiled the small man with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Bruce smiled warmly to the table sharks surrounding him, not taking the bait. “No thank you. I know my worth and I have a lot to lose. Happy winnings, gentlemen!” he said politely, raising his empty whiskey glass in a salute. 

The lanky man released another ear piercing cackle. “Alright Bruce. See you next week. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!”

“PUSSY!” snorted the Catman as he took a swig of his beer.

“We have an open seat at the table. Any brave challengers want in? C’mon, you pussies. The winning pot for the end of the night should be up to 25,000,” the lanky man asked, scanning the crowd for any more potential victims.

“I’d like in!”

All eyes were on Vinnie.

“And who the fuck are you?”

The crowd parted like the red sea as the Catman jabbed a finger towards the man who spoke up. Vinnie stepped forward, hand curling around his picks even tighter. The men at the table were sizing him up.

“I’m here to play--”

“Doesn’t answer my question.” the Catman sneered, and the lanky man just laughed and waved him off.

“Who cares, Cat? If he’s got the dough, then he can sit. If he’s got the balls, then he can play.” 

“Ace, I ain’t playing with a sucker in polyester.”

Ace rolled his eyes, rolling his hands over a stack of poker chips that clicked together. They somehow echoed like the bang of a drum in Vinnie’s ears. A swish of whiskey in a crystal glass caught his eye, and suddenly he wondered if he should order a drink to fit in a bit better.

The blond kept smirking at him like he could sense his heart. Vinnie took a deep breath, trying to keep a steady beat, hoping his opponents were deaf to the rolling thunder within his chest.

“Are you just here to see how much debt you can rack up?”

The sly fluffy man’s voice cut through the thick tension, sharp as a blade but smooth with caution as his eyes focused on the man across from him. Vinnie lifted his eyes to him and gave him a smile. Thus far, he had remained calm and cool, and he would for the rest of the night. He just had to remind himself why he was here… here among these filthy hedonists. These were pompous, proud, and positively wealthy creatures liking nothing more than to win for the sick thrill of it. They weren’t in it for the money. They were in it for the glory.

Ace lit up an expensive cigar and held the box out to Vinnie, brow cocked.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

“Well, someone get this poor boy a fuckin’ drink, then. What’s your poison? No! Wait, wait. Let me guess… Strawberry Daiquiri? Just something fruity, eh?”

A warm sensation rose in Vinnie’s padded shoulders, but the heat didn’t rise to his cheeks. A gentle exhale of air blew away the insult and smoke. It was all just jeers to try to get under his skin even before the cards were reshuffled.

“I’ll take a glass of whiskey, if that’s not too much trouble,” Vinnie said, turning to a waitress at his side.

“Surprised he went for a man’s drink.”

“Oh, shut up, Peter. You’re doing too much bitchin’ tonight.” the fluffy man sighed. “You think you’ll lose, huh?”

“To him? No. I wouldn’t be sore. Definitely not as sore as Bruce.”

“Alright, kiddo. How many chips?” Ace asked, extending his hand forward.

Vinnie reached into his pocket and slid out his wallet. He had ten dollars to his name. He had hustled his ass off playing guitar on the street all day and had only managed to accrue in ten measly dollars. He knew what he had gotten himself into and there was no turning back now. Slamming the ten dollar bill onto the table, he slid it over to Ace.

Ace howled, throwing his head back in deep laughter, clapping his hands in amusement. “Oh my God! This is fucking priceless!”

The entire table along with its spectators all joined in with condescending laughs. Vinnie kept his intense gaze on Ace, not letting the mocking get under his skin one bit. He was in it to win it.

“Get tha fuck outta here! This is a real man’s game! Take your chump change and go play some _Go Fish_ with the other babies,” Peter roared with laughter.

“It’s 5K to buy in,” the fluffy man smiled warmly.

Vinnie knew better than to show any sign of weakness to these cads. They were sniffing him out like a bloodhound, searching for any way they could to tear him down, but he wasn't about to give them that satisfaction.

“I don’t have that kind of money, but I will,” he said with confidence, keeping his intense gaze on Ace.

The roaring laughter ensued but much more fiercely this time.

“Awww, such a cute little baby! He actually thinks he can play with the big boys,” Peter wheezed, tears streaming down his cheeks from laughing so damn hard.

The blond man put a hand on Vinnie’s shoulder in mock comfort. “Listen kiddo, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll fuck off. We will destroy you. Our game is not for the faint of heart. The last fool who challenged us left this casino bound and gagged. He had his ass popped open like a shotgun,” he smirked, blowing a bubble until it popped for emphasis. “You want that to happen to you? Or are you a glutton for punishment?”

Vinnie craned his neck to look the little shit stirrer right in the face. “You gonna run your mouth or play some cards?”

“Oooooooh! We got ourselves a feisty one! Lookout boys!” Peter mock laughed. “Man, security, get this fucking idiot out of here!” he demanded, snapping his fingers at a burly looking man.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ace spoke up, holding his hand out to prevent security from escorting Vinnie out. “I like this kid. Deal him in,” he smirked wickedly.

The dealer slid Vinnie a blue chip, which he tossed into the center of the table. Peter bet an orange chip and everyone else threw in two green chips a piece. The five players kept a straight face as the cards were being reshuffled and dealt. Vinnie took a look at his cards.

“Pair!” the blond man announced, throwing his cards down.

“That’s cute, Eric,” the fluffy man said, showing his double pair. 

Ace had three of a kind. Vinnie showed everyone his straight hand. Peter folded his hand, glaring at Vinnie as if he had cursed him somehow.

“Fuck!” Peter hissed, lighting up a cigar, taking a long drag to calm his nerves.

Ace looked rather impressed.

“Beginner’s luck,” grumbled the fluffy man as Vinnie collected his $210 dollar winning pot.

“Don’t be bitter, Fox,” Ace said, flicking the ash from his cigar into an empty glass. “We’re just gettin’ started over here…”

Vinnie won the second round, raking in $400 this time. He took his time, betting modestly, but lost the third and fourth round. His luck picked back up on the seventh round when everyone started bidding higher. The next round went by much quicker with Eric and Fox folding immediately, and Vinnie winning with a four of a kind.

“Can we please get a dealer over here who knows how to shuffle the fucking cards?!” Peter snapped, throwing his cards down onto the table in anger.

Meanwhile off to the side, a tall man in dark shades dressed in a black business jacket and slacks casually observed the game in secrecy. He pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number. 

“Hey, it’s Gene, you might want to come down here,” he whispered into the phone. “Yeah, some new hot shot climbing up the ranks,” he paused for a moment, listening intently to the other end. “Yeah… Oh, trust me, I know you won’t be disappointed,” he smirked deviously, eyeing Vinnie like a piece of meat.

Curious onlookers stopped and began to grow in numbers around them as the bids got higher and higher. Ace sucked thoughtfully on the tip of his cigar. They had been at it for hours now. This new guy, this poor sucker, couldn’t possibly keep upping the ante and winning over and over again. He just couldn’t. 

The room was inordinately tranquil, considering the stakes at hand and the number of glasses Peter had thrown against the floor in rage. The Catman had had a remarkable stroke of bad luck because of his piss poor poker face, in Vinnie’s eyes. Those sleepy eyes widened ever so slightly when he got a bad hand. As for the rest of them, whenever they had good cards, Vinnie’s were better. When they would check, Vinnie would raise. Slowly but surely running him down until the larger towers of chips in front of Ace had become frighteningly sparse.

Ace’s teeth bit down on the cigar and twisted it ever so slightly. Both Eric and Fox had folded. They knew the pot was stacked, and Peter, Ace and Vinnie had gone all in. If the past games were any indication, though, then Vinnie would swoop in with these unbeatable cards.

The dealer announced the round, and Ace spread his cards in front of him triumphantly.

“A straight flush, boys,” he declared.

“Fuck you, Ace!” Peter slammed his fist against his end of the table. The chips clacked in place while there was a murmur among the crowd before Vinnie spoke up.

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid not.”

A flicker of confusion passed over Ace’s face as Vinnie spread his own cards out on the table.

“A royal flush.”

Ace and Peter were out of chips.

At that exact moment, a wave of energy enveloped the room. It made the crowd disperse, and it had the other men at the table quickly downing the last of their booze. Peter discreetly leaned over to Ace and murmured, “You think you could spot me 5K? Gene will have my ass…”

“Fuck Gene, man! He’s escorting Paul…” the lanky man’s knee began to bounce up and down. “And Tommy…”

Vinnie finally decided to turn and take a look at this ‘Paul,’ and his jaw dropped. Ruby red lips swallowed his focus as they turned up in a smile. The man walked along the floor like a grand king, greeting those whom he recognized. His head turned with grace and dignity that the others around him couldn’t even hold a light up to. The wealthy elite either trembled as he walked by or fawned over his softened sparkling eyes.

“Gene, would you be a dear and hold my coat. I don’t trust these feathers with just anyone~” There was such an otherworldly flare with the silver fox as he turned on his heeled boots to glance at the taller man beside him. They looked about the same age, but Paul’s makeup saved him a few years and a few laugh lines.

Gene nodded, and Paul gave him an affectionate pat on the hand, then folded his jacket over Gene’s arm. He turned, then, and smiled at Ace, showing off the leash in his hand. “Oh, Acey, has it been a week already? Time flies so fast.”

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s been over a week, actually… but hey, who’s counting? Not me.” Ace’s voice broke as he cackled and shooed the girls beside him away as he stood, wobbling over to Paul. “Tommy… He did good, didn’t he?”

“Oh, he did great. He was everything I expected, you promised, and more. I can’t wait until our lil’ rematch. Next time, though…” There was a tiny twitch downward in that beautiful smile of his before he shoved the leash into Ace’s hands. “Pay off your own debt, you damn drunkard.”

“Y- Yeah, Paulie, absolutely…” Ace nodded, gently pulling the leash close until Tommy stumbled out from behind the silver fox. His face was untouched, but his neck was littered with hickies and lipstick stains. He had bags under his eyes, and he collapsed into Ace’s arms. “Baby boy…?”

Paul giggled, shoving a hand against Tommy’s clothed backside, making him moan. “I wouldn’t bother much now, Ace. I think I broke your lil’ boy toy.”

Ace ignored Paul’s jabs, tending to his poor baby boy, assuring him that his Space Daddy still loved him dearly and would make it up to him later.

“Oh, you’re most definitely not his daddy anymore!” Paul chuckled before addressing Tommy. “Tommy, cum for daddy!” he barked in an authoritative tone.

At that moment, Tommy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came something fierce into his tight skinny jeans, panting heavily from the sexual stimulus. Ace looked mortified. “Tommy, stop that!” he cried out desperately.

Vinnie watched this interaction with a mix of intrigue and arousal. Who the hell was this strange, sexy older man? He had such a soft and feminine appearance, yet when he spoke he commanded the attention in the room. It was like he held some sort of mystic power. A power that shook Vinnie to his very core, and before he knew it he had moaned out loud right after Tommy.

Several eyes snapped to him, one pair quicker than the rest. Those sweet sinful eyes had Vinnie biting his lip as they stared him down. The strange part was that he didn’t mind it, didn’t mind submitting to such a dominant figure.

He had the beauty of a black widow, Vinnie decided as Paul sashayed over to him.

“So, you’re the new face around here,” Vinnie could place the accent immediately now. Queens, New York. “Are you winning, boy~?”

“My name is Vinnie, and well… I’m certainly not losing,” he said, glancing more at Paul’s lips now than his dark eyes. “These guys aren’t much of a challenge for me.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Paul took a seat atop the table next to him and grabbed his hands. Vinnie tried to pull them back, but Paul had an iron grasp on him. “I beat their asses all the time. I try to make it interesting for them, though.” Vinnie felt his own palms begin to sweat when Paul spread his thighs some. “It’s fun to play games with me isn’t it, boys~?”

A nod and vocal agreement came from the men around them. Tommy seemed the most enthusiastic with Ace having to physically hold him back from Paul.  
“No, thank you, I am out!” Ace growled, hugging Tommy tightly, glaring daggers at Paul.

Maybe he was a witch, Vinnie thought as he felt those fingers gently knead into his hands. Or maybe he was a fallen angel playing with the devil’s fire. Either seemed likely at this rate.

“Hey…” That smooth Queen’s tone fluttered back into his ears. “Why don’t we go downstairs to my private room?”

Vinnie cocked a brow. “You have a private room here?”

Paul smirked and looked to Gene. “Courtesy of the club owner and his never ending generosity~”

A hell of a courtesy, Vinnie thought to himself.

“We’ll take our group here and make it a special private game,” Paul whispered with a wink. “Enough of this chump change. You’re a high roller; I can feel it in my bones.”

Vinnie’s head raised ever so slightly at the ego stroking. He had been winning most of the night. What were a few more high rolling games? He could grab even more cash and exit when he had enough to complete his record. No harm.

“C’mon, what do you say~?”

“I think… I think I’ll take your bet, sir.”

With that, Gene escorted the players downstairs into the luxurious private gaming room reserved only for the casino’s elite gamblers. Behind the large golden door was a swanky room with deep purple walls, plush couches, a private bar, and in the middle of the room sat a stunning card table. The legs of the table were made of solid gold while the edges were adorned with multi-colored gems that glistened brilliantly under the low lights.

A bald-headed man with a classy mustache dressed in a tuxedo greeted their arrival. Vinnie took a seat on a plush loveseat facing the table. Across from him sat Paul flashing him a seductive smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Vinnie couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Paul looked under the soft light. Sure, he was already very attractive but somehow this lighting just enhanced his dark chocolate eyes, making them almost hypnotic. Before long Vinnie found himself watching Paul’s slender fingers slide down his neck, trailing down his broad chest, unfastening each button on his silk blouse, nice and slow, revealing a generous amount of dark chest hair. Vinnie forced himself to look away, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by the sexiest older man he had ever laid eyes on!

“Are you ready, Mr. Stanley?” the bald man asked, giving the sexy man a knowing look.

“Oh, I’m always ready, Bob. How about you, Vinnie? Are you ready to play with daddy?” he purred, giving the surprised guitarist a playful wink. Gene stood behind Paul with his arms crossed, watching over the seductive man like a hulking bodyguard.

Vinnie tried to appear more confident but the hesitation in his voice seemed to give him away. “Yes, I’m... I’m ready Dad-- Paul!” he stammered. He bit the side of his cheek in hopes no one overheard his little slip up. 

Peter chuckled darkly, taking a seat to Vinnie’s right. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“I hope that skinny little ass of yours can handle some fierce spankings,” Eric taunted, sitting to Vinnie’s left.

Vinnie rolled his eyes. He was quite used to all of the bullshit talk tonight. “Eric, shut up! Bob, deal us in!,” he said, locking his intense eyes on Paul, who only smiled innocently back at him.

Bob gave Vinnie a sympathetic look as he reshuffled and dealt out the cards. Vinnie took a look at his hand and then tried to carefully observe each player. Eric bit his lip. Peter narrowed his eyes while thumping his fingers impatiently on the table. Paul licked his lips, giving Vinnie bedroom eyes.

Vinnie blushed and slid a yellow chip into the middle of the table, which only added more pressure to the rest of the players.

“Ooooh, I just _love_ big bets. So much money on the line just makes me so horny,” Paul moaned out like a bitch in heat, sending goosebumps down everyone’s backs.

Tommy whined, throwing himself down at Ace’s feet. Those moans… That man had changed him…

Ace’s throat was too dry to swallow. “It’s okay, baby boy…” he sighed, rubbing his back soothingly, but his eyes were transfixed on Paul.

Vinnie swallowed, but tried to keep his cool. He could feel his arousal springing to life.

Eric bit his tongue as if he was fighting back a moan and showed his cards without even giving them a second glance. He had a pair of aces.

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat with one hand under the table and the other hand throwing down his three of a kind.

Paul seductively slid out a light blue chip in the middle of the table to double Vinnie’s money, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him.

Vinnie grinned, trying to keep his cool around Paul. He figured he'd try playing the man at his own game. “You first, daddy,” he cooed, licking his lips lewdly.

Paul cocked his head to the side and with a cocky smile to match he laid out a full house. 

Everyone turned to Vinnie eagerly to see his next move. 

Vinnie bit his lip and made a face as if he was about to cry. “This is not good…” he shook his head sadly and laid out his cards. He had a three of hearts and a seven of each suit. It was a four of a kind, which won him the round.

Paul grinned, completely unfazed by Vinnie’s win. In the blink of an eye, he had won the next three rounds, practically knocking the wind out of the guitarist and hurting his winnings. The next few rounds got very tense. Paul won one round, Vinnie the next, then Paul won the next, and then Vinnie won the next. The back and forth kept going on for over an hour, putting everyone on the edge of their seats.

Eric and Peter kept betting high and Vinnie had no choice but to match them. It was really starting to affect Vinnie’s hard earned winnings, which made him a bit nervous. Paul played differently from the others. He played fast and dirty. 

There was a particularly intense round and Vinnie was caught under Paul’s scrutinizing gaze. Paul smirked, breaking his gaze to shift his eyes over to the left and to the right. Puzzled, Vinnie looked over to see Peter grinding his teeth and over to Eric, who was giving him an icy look.

Vinnie focused his gaze back on Paul and added more chips into the pot. Immediately, Paul doubled his bet, and Vinnie won. Peter and Eric spat out expletives, but Paul relaxed back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine like it was no big deal, flashing Vinnie an expectant smile. A chill went down Vinnie’s spine. Paul _knew_ he had the winning hand but set it up for Vinnie to win even more money. He had starved Eric and Peter out of all of their money, making them forfeit and leave the table in a fury. It was just him and Paul now. What the hell was he up to?

The winning pot was now up to a staggering 100,000. This money was a dream come true for Vinnie. He could finally afford the life he had only dreamed about for years.

“Oh, Vinnie?” cooed Paul, batting his eyelashes at him. “How about we make the last round a lil’ more interesting?” he spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice, getting up from his seat to sit next to the perplexed man.

Vinnie felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew better than to press his luck. There was just too much money to lose! Luck had been on his side all night, but for how much longer?

“What did you have in mind?” Vinnie asked casually, curious to hear the other man out at least.

Paul flashed a wicked toothy grin. “Double or nothing.” He rubbed his foot slowly up Vinnie’s leg, pressing it ever so gently against his hardening erection, causing the guitarist to sigh out from the erotic contact.

There were some gasps and hushed whispers around the table. Tommy’s whimpers were the loudest of them all. 

"Baby, hush…" Ace stroked his cheek.

It should have been suspicious. It should have been. The red flags never rose in Vinnie’s mind, though. All his focus was stolen and thrust upon those ruby lips, pursing and pouting. It made him nod.

"I'll take your bet, good sir."

"Famous last words…" Eric giggled, faintly.

No. No, none of them would get to him. He wouldn't let it. They haven't been throwing him off all night, but the tension was never this thick and the players never this alluring.

Paul toyed with a star-shaped earring as Bob cast his gaze over him, turning his eyes subtly at Eric and Peter. They would succumb to his will once more, like the good boys they were. Together they would lead this new soul past the point of no return, sparing him no backward glances. Their easy, trivial games were at an end.

The bet doubled, and out the window went the thought of immoral greed. Safe security, wondrous fortune, pure luck. They laid in the bottoms of those green eyes staring back at Paul.

"How far are you willing to go to make your dreams come true, little man?" Peter teased him with a smirk.

"I'm willing to do anything… within reason." Vinnie said, keeping his eyes off Peter as he toyed with the pink picks in his hand. Raising the bar to 200,000 was within reason, wasn't it? It must have been. It was definitely enough to finally help him finance and achieve his dreams. No more begging, no more playing on street corners. He could afford an apartment and no longer stay in the basements of clubs. He could finish his demo work and start a band. Success was right at his fingertips.

"I love a man with passion," Paul smiled before he sipped at his wine. "I love to see him parade around absolutely reeking of it."

Eric whined, and Peter blew out a puff of air. They tensed like they expected to be whipped.

Paul continued.

"I love to stroll up to a man like that… then snap that confidence like you would a neck."

Vinnie gulped. He could believe it. The silver fox seemed like the type to have shattered many a man in his prime and well into the current day.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Vinnie knew he should just take his winnings and run. He could live comfortably off of $100,000, but with $200,000 in his pocket, he could almost be set for life!

“I understand,” Vinnie said with a nod, sealing his fate, pushing his mountain of chips into the center of the table.

“You stupid prick!” Ace hissed from the back of the room, squeezing his baby boy even tighter to his chest protectively.

And with a self-satisfied smirk on his plump cherry lips, Paul uttered the infamous words, “Bob, deal us in.”

Bob nodded, giving Vinnie a dead man walking look as he dealt him his cards.

Vinnie’s heart pounded aggressively in his chest. He was starting to regret his stupid decision. What happened? He was playing so carefully! Paul had upped his confidence, seducing him into doing the one thing he tried to avoid, succumbing to greed. He looked over at Paul. Paul took a quick glance at his cards and then sat them back down on the table, looking up at Vinnie with the world’s best poker face.

“You first this time, sweet boy,” his voice oozed with the sensual promise of eternal pleasure.

There had to be a reason Paul wanted him to go first. With a deep breath, Vinnie looked down at his cards hesitantly, expecting the worst. Contrary to his belief, the gods were smiling down on him! A straight flush! He couldn’t believe it! He bit his cheek to keep himself from looking too optimistic. He had won. There was no way in hell Paul could top that with the cards that had been played already.

Vinnie slammed his cards down on the table overdramatically. “Read ‘em and weep!” he exclaimed. 

The room burst into applause for Vinnie as he reached over to scoop up his magnificent winnings! Ace, Tommy, Eric, Fox, and Peter stared in awe with their mouths hanging open. 

Vinnie offered his hand to Paul in good sportsman-like behavior. “Good game, Paul!”

Paul looked at Vinnie’s hand and then up at the giddy guitarist. His beautiful lips curved into a smile as he broke out into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. His giggling quickly erupted into a full on deep bellied guffaw, silencing everyone’s celebration for Vinnie. The room became deathly quiet with the exception of Paul’s laughter.

“I think Paulie may have finally lost his marbles,” Ace said, backing away slowly with Tommy in case the elitist was about to go homicidal. 

Vinnie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”

Paul slowly turned over his hand of cards. To everyone’s surprise, it was a royal flush.

And just like that, Vinnie had lost all of his money and was $200,000 in debt to this strange, mysterious man.

Vinnie’s heart sank as the room erupted in deafening cheers and handclaps for Paul’s victory. He collapsed back down into his seat in shock with a pale face and clammy hands. Looking over at Paul desperately, the silver fox’s flirtatious smile had blossomed into a sadistic smirk.

Vinnie knew his life would change forever.


	2. Chapter 2

“Paul! Paul!” Vinnie cried out, trailing after the elitist like another one of his doe-eyed groupies, desperately vying for the man’s attention.

Paul was gallivanting around the casino, signing autographs, posing for pictures, sipping champagne, and chatting cheerfully with his admirers without a care in the world. And why wouldn’t he? He wasn't the one that was $200,000 in the hole. Hell, literally just a few hours ago, Vinnie himself would have been just as chipper with his $100,000 winnings. That thought kept gnawing into the pit of his stomach. Had he just walked away, he would've been $100,000 richer and wouldn’t be in this current predicament. 

As the crowd started to disperse, Vinnie saw an opening to get to Paul, which he quickly rushed over before anyone else got in his way.

“Paul, please, I need to talk to you,” Vinnie pleaded, watching as Paul finished signing another autograph.

“Yes?” Paul hummed thoughtfully, handing the signed King Of Hearts card back to one of his devoted fans. Gene held Paul’s champagne glass for him whenever he chose to fraternize with a fan, watching over him like a hawk.

Vinnie swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew if he was going to get out of here alive then he would need to swallow his pride. He hated asking for help. If there was one thing that Vincent Cusano prided himself on it was being able to take care of himself. 

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Stanley, but I don’t have that kind of money to pay you back.” Gone was the cool, calm and collected Vinnie as he struggled to keep himself in check from having a nervous breakdown in front of everyone. He could barely keep himself from shaking.

Gene narrowed his eyes threateningly at Vinnie, making the guitarist feel even more helpless. Paul Stanley seemed like a powerful man. A very powerful man. The kind of man that could make someone disappear for displeasing him. And Vinnie had just willingly signed his death warrant when he chose to gamble his earnings away to this man.

“Believe me, I know you can’t.” Paul chuckled darkly, not even sparing Vinnie a pitied glance. He was on to the next fan, giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek before addressing Vinnie once more. “I’ve seen you before, seen you out on the streets, playing guitar and singing on the street corner. You seem like a very talented musician, but that’s not what’s intrigued me. Tonight, I’ve seen you on the edge, and I want to see more of your fiery determination. Whenever I saw you play, all I could see was that passionate fire burning in your eyes, like some kind of wild fire… insatiable and untamed.”

Vinnie’s eyes widened. Paul knew about him and had heard his music?

“You thought it was just a random chance that flyers for the casino kept popping up where you played? Following you home, tempting you on each corner? I was the one that sent you an invite to the casino,” Paul smirked, still not even looking at Vinnie as he shook the hands of another wealthy older man, complimenting him on his superb playing skills. “I was right about you… You’re the kind of man that will do whatever it takes to accomplish his goal. I love that kind of fire in a man. I just knew… I had to see if you could burn for me.”

Vinnie felt as if the wind was knocked out of him. Was this some kind of set up? Did Paul just admit that he lured him here on purpose?

“I… I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to pay you back, Mr. Stanley! I- I have $300 in my bank account right now! You can have it! I’ll take out a loan from the bank… I’ll get a second and even a third job.”

Paul finally looked over at the anxious guitarist, reaching his hand out to stroke Vinnie’s cheek soothingly. “Awww. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about the money, baby boy,” he cooed, and then with another wicked smirk added, “After all there are other ways to pay off a debt.”

Other ways to pay off a debt.

Other ways to pay off a debt.

Other ways...

The thought echoed around in Vinnie’s skull as the driver pulled around to a lush gated community. His hands tightened around his belongings the second he heard the automatic lock click in.

Paul wasn’t asking much of him to leave his dingy, not even furnished apartment. Vinnie suspected it would be easier this way, beginning to imagine all the yard work Paul probably expected him to do. Upkeep on the mansion, garden work, using all sorts of tools that he hadn’t been familiar with since he was a child. All that hard work was going to drain him, so he understood where Paul was coming from when he said he wanted to keep him on the grounds. 

He sighed as he thought about it. As long as his room had four corners, a roof and heat, it would be a rapid improvement over his previous home.

Fingers gently plucked at silver guitar strings, leaving hollow notes in the air. Would a prayer for his hands be too late at this point? Would be it too much of God for him to ask? He had already fallen so low and sinned with gambling, the least he could do now was ask for a bit of forgiveness and mercy.

Vinnie leaned his head against the window as he looked at the driver. He mentioned his name, Bill, then nothing else before motioning him into the car. He seemed like Paul’s own personal driver, judging by the hat and suit. That kind of loyalty, bought or not, didn’t seem like the type to bend if Vinnie were to ask him to stop now. Or slow down. Or to even just turn around and take him to Mexico.

It was too late.

The limo came to a halt in front of a gorgeous cobblestone manor. Vinnie gaped in awe as he stumbled out of the vehicle with his things. In the center of the cul-de-sac driveway was a beautiful golden cherub water fountain. In the distance, he got an ample view of the well manicured lawn and lush gardens that gave the illusion of stretching on for miles and miles. Hell, cutting the lawn was going to be a full day's work in itself! Vinnie winced internally. He was going to have his work cut out for him, no pun intended.

“Come along now, Mr. Cusano. It’s best not to keep Mr. Stanley waiting,” ushered the driver in a firm yet friendly tone.

Vinnie nodded solemnly, following the man up the stone paved stairway and through the massive oak front door into the sprawling foyer. The interior reminded Vinnie of something straight out of a fairytale book. Brightly colored cherub angels graced the sky blue colored ceiling, circling around an over the top ginormous diamond chandelier hanging overhead, and in the center of the room was a grand golden stairway with bright red carpet.

Greed. An overwhelming amount of greed. It left a metallic taste in Vinnie’s mouth the more he stared at it. Was it all earned through poker games and gambling? Was it even earned at all?

It was all too much for him to think about. Vinnie let his gaze fall to the polished floors, then set his few belongings down beside his boots.

“Mr. Stanley, your guest has arrived!” announced the driver in a dramatic way that Vinnie guessed he must have to do this a lot.

Paul strutted his way down the staircase, proud as a peacock, wearing a deep purple gown that dragged onto the ground with a white fur trimmed collar and cuffs. If Vinnie didn’t know any better, he almost thought that Paul thought of himself as royalty. It sickened him to the core. Giving a sympathetic smile, Paul addressed the scowling man before him.

“Vinnie, how lovely it is to see you again! Welcome to my humble home!” he gestured with open arms.

Humble, my ass, Vinnie thought.

A pointed nail landed on the bags by his feet, and Paul arched his brow. "Are these your things?"

"Everything I own," Vinnie shrugged weakly. 

"Really?" Paul said it with such shock in his voice. His head turned as he couldn't imagine carrying all his belongings in his arms. "Bill, be a dear and please take Mr. Cusano's things to his room," Paul waved the driver off. 

"Please be careful with the guitar," Vinnie begged, feeling as if he was handing his own child over to a stranger. 

"Awwww! Everything will be fine, baby boy. Relaxxx… You're safe and sound with Daddy now," he purred, stroking Vinnie's hair. Vinnie backed away on survival instinct, not entirely sure of this man's intention.

Paul winked at him and motioned for him to follow. "So... Vinnie, how was the ride?" 

"Quiet." 

"Bill took the easy route, yes? Didn't spoil the beautiful rose gardens along the other side of the community, yes?"

"He didn't." He didn't know why it would matter.

"Good, good,"

"I felt carsick." And why wouldn’t he after all that had happened?

"Aww…" Paul laid a hand on his fuzzy chest and cocked his head. "Vinnie, I'm sorry… Do you need something?"

A quick shake of the head. Nothing. Unless it was his freedom or money back, Vinnie didn't want a thing from him.

"Well, I want you to be comfortable. What kind of master would I be if I treated you so poorly?" 

Master? Vinnie almost froze in his stride behind the robed man. 

"Is there a problem?"

Vinnie took a deep breath. He felt like a timid mouse trapped in a room with a prowling tom cat. "Mr. Stanley, sir, with all due respect I'm not comfortable with all this daddy and master talk." He winced internally. 

Truthfully, it was an erotic dream come true to have this sexy older man fawn all over him, but Vinnie knew that something wasn't quite right.

Paul brought a finger up to his lips and hummed. "Alright, I'll think about it." 

Vinnie bristled as he spun back around. That wasn't really the quick fix on the issue he had been hoping for. "Mr. Stanley, ple--" 

"Hush and follow. Hurry, hurry," Paul snapped his fingers as he went through a pair of swinging doors. "I don't want to overcook dinner." 

Vinnie blinked. "Dinner?"

As slowly as he could, Vinnie hesitantly followed Paul into a spacious kitchen complete with the latest electronics and a massive display of stainless steel pots and pans neatly placed on the shelves. Vinnie was about to protest some more until the overwhelming scent of garlic and basil invaded his nostrils. The guitarist took a big whiff of the air and immediately his stomach growled ferociously.

Paul's hips swayed side to side as he hurried to the stove and lowered the heat for his noodles. Satisfied, he turned to the oven and grabbed his oven mitts. He had to have a dinner date tonight, Vinnie thought as he stood lamely in the doorway. There was way too much for two people being prepared, though. Perhaps a dinner with multiple guests? 

"You, sit." Paul ordered as he stood back up, a hot tray of garlic bread in his covered grasp.

Vinnie took a seat at the nearest table, staring at that fluffy garlic bread down with intense desire. Oh...how he hoped he would get to partake of this delicious Italian feast. Paul looked up and grinned, seeing Vinnie's eyes locked on the bread. "I've prepared a very special hearty dinner just for you, Vinnie," he cooed, grabbing one of the garlic breadsticks. The butter glistened under the kitchen lights. 

"You made all this...for me?" Vinnie asked shyly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a good home cooked meal. Musician life had reduced him to a strict ramen noodles, beans and rice diet to pinch pennies. 

"Yes, I did. Here, have a taste and tell me what you think," he whispered in a husky tone, holding the savory breadstick before Vinnie's quivering lips.

Paul shouldn't have been offering it to him like that. It was too strange, too erotic, for him. Not to mention he had known him for about a day in total. Vinnie should have been getting a breakdown on his room and work schedule by now, not taste testing breadsticks. No matter how lovely they appeared… They did look downright irresistible, though, and it had been ages since he had had some.

Vinnie gulped as a bit of shame boiled inside him, then. It would just be a bite. Just a small bite, then no more.

Vinnie took a nibble, savoring the fluffy-as-a-cloud doughy and buttery goodness. Dear God… this was delicious! He wanted more! 

"Go ahead… eat," Paul sighed, holding the bread back up to Vinnie's mouth.

Almost instantly, Vinnie took a bigger bite, savoring the garlic on his tongue. Vinnie's eyes rolled back in bliss… this was the most delicious garlic breadstick he had ever eaten! This little slice of heaven threatened to put his own mother's home cooked meals to shame.

Paul set the rest of the pieces out on a plate and pushed it towards Vinnie with a smile. It warmed something in the guitarist to see Paul watching over him. To him, it seemed as if he just wanted a moment to be proud of his cooking. He definitely had nothing to fret over, Vinnie was sure as he reached for another piece of bread. 

"Mmhm," Paul hummed as he turned and went back to the stove.

The spaghetti noodles broke nicely in his hands before he dropped them into the water. Vinnie idly watched him, curious about his methods.

He couldn’t help himself as he kept snacking on those breadsticks. Two quickly doubled to four and then became eight. Paul was humming a cheery tune and even started cutting a little jig, swaying those powerful hips back and forth as he stirred the noodles into the pot. Vinnie watched as Paul sensually took off his robe, revealing him to be shirtless with skin tight leather pants. With the robe gone, Paul's bulging erection was quite noticeable, but it was perhaps his shapely rear end that fascinated Vinnie. He could even see the outline of a thong. Vinnie sighed, watching that scrumptious ass sway in a mesmerizing pattern as he enjoyed more garlic breadsticks.

Soft soul music began to play in the background, but Vinnie didn’t notice. How could he when all his attention was on delicious food and those luscious hips. 

Wait. That was perverted.

Vinnie cast his eyes down the plate and sighed. He shouldn't have ideas like that. They were sinful and dangerous and.. and another bite of the garlic bread really proved to be better than all the rest. Paul turned back to smile at him when he heard a happy moan.

"My, you're such a hungry baby boy," he giggled cutely, never stopping with his slow rocking hip sways.

Vinnie sighed, all the bread was starting to expand in his stomach, making him feel stuffed. Wait… what did Paul just call him? 

"All of that yummy bread is going to make you very sleepy," he instructed, emphasizing on the word sleepy. And right on cue, Vinnie started yawning, feeling the effects of all that butter and dough.

Paul set down his spoon and wandered back to Vinnie, slowly. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from a drawer near the fridge and approached with a grin. "Hey, sleepy head, don't doze off completely yet." Paul poked his cheek with a laugh. "There's still something very important we need to take care of."

"Hmm… what's that?" Vinnie yawned, stretching his arms out. 

Right then and there, he could fall asleep at the kitchen table. Between the warm oven heat, those delicious hearty breadsticks and Paul's hypnotic swaying, he was the most relaxed and comfortable he had been in a long time. 

"I need you to sign our contract. Just a few rules and regulations for you to abide by while you're living here, working for me," Paul replied nonchalantly as if it wasn't a big deal. 

Vinnie sighed, fighting to keep his focus as his food coma was starting to try to settle in. "What kind of rules?" He asked quietly. 

"Oops! Clumsy me!" Paul pouted when he dropped the pen. In a swift motion, he turned and bent over, giving Vinnie an eyeful of his lacy black thong riding up.

Vinnie’s eyes stretched open as his teeth sank down into his lower lip. Beautiful, intricate lace perfectly melded against that fine ass. The temptation to reach out and touch it was great, but he restrained himself. Barely. With a smooth rise back to his full height, Paul moved back beside Vinnie and laid the pen down on the paper. "Just sign at the sides next to all the regulations. Just typical things, really." 

"I should sit up and really read this--" Vinnie’s own involuntary shiver shut his mind down. Paul's rubbing hand felt so distracting on his thigh. "M- Mr. Stanley..." 

"Yeah?" 

“I don’t think that’s very appropriate…”

Paul bit his lip and almost looked sad. "Vinnie, I just want to make sure you're well taken care of," he sighed, rubbing delicate circles around Vinnie's thighs, arousing him. "You'd be surprised at the types of people that would take advantage of such a handsome young man as yourself."

Vinnie blushed from the compliment, feeling Paul's fingers beckon him closer. "I don't want to hurt you, Vinnie. I want to help you, care for you, guide you, educate you… love you.”

Something was really odd about that last word, but Vinnie was enjoying this little massage so very much and the fact that Paul wanted to look out for him was wonderful. So many people had hurt him throughout the years… but here was a rich, sexy, powerful man that was willing to shield him from the cruelty of the world.

How had he ended up here again? The thought stood out like a silver streak in his hazy mind. He had to have gotten here somehow... It was bad. It was a debt. A debt! 

Vinnie shifted a bit away from Paul’s touches and whispered words with a whimper. It was hard enough to think clearly when full, but none of that was helping. 

"Mmhm, you're a very tense man, I can tell." Vinnie tried not to look at his new boss when he curled against him. "Just sign and I'll show you to your new room. C'mon. We haven't got all night."

Paul’s strong hands were on Vinnie's shoulders now, massaging the tense muscles. Oooh that felt heavenly. Vinnie grinned like a dork as Paul was working out a very tight kink in his neck. Paul tsked, shaking his head. "When was the last time you had a proper massage?" 

"Oh, I… ahhh… don't ‘member," Vinnie slurred, melting like warm butter in Paul's hands. 

"Well, hurry up and sign your contract, and I'll be happy to work out the rest of those pesky kinks," Paul offered, moving his strong arms down Vinnie's back, causing him to moan out loud in ecstasy. 

Paul chuckled as Vinnie blushed in embarrassment. He craved more of that sensual touch just like those breadsticks. He grabbed the pen and hastily signed his name.

Paul's eyes lit up in delight. He grabbed the paper with a flourish and patted Vinnie’s head. "Good boy," he cheered. "Very good boy." 

Vinnie sighed, leaning back in his chair before a cookie landed on his plate. "Wh… What?"

"You get a treat when you do things that I like." 

"Mh, I'll be sure to trim the hedges exactly like how you tell them, then."

A burst of giggles rose from the rich man as soon as those words left Vinnie’s lips. Paul had to grip the table to keep himself from toppling over. 

"You're not serious?"

"...Okay, then when I'm picking weeds." Vinnie shrugged, picking up his cookie. Double chocolate chip. He licked his lips.

"Vinnie, darling, you won't be doing dirty yard work."

Vinnie almost looked relieved. "Oh, so house work and home repairs?"

A wicked grin blossomed across Paul's face. Vinnie tried in vain to think of what in the hell exactly was he supposed to do then. "Do you need help with your taxes?" 

"Vinnie, sweetheart," Paul purred, leaning in close to the guitarist's ear. "You're going to be Daddy's perfect horny baby boy."

The cookie fell from Vinnie’s lips and hit the floor with a faint thud. All the fullness in his system suddenly vanished, and Vinnie rose up out of his seat away from his new boss.

"No," It was said in a firm, sharp tone, but it didn't seem to phase Paul one bit. 

"No? Um, yeah, I don't think that's a valid answer anymore." Paul waved the piece of paper back and forth in his hands. 

"No." 

"Vinnie, don't you back away." Paul’s voice was dropping its sweetness. "Get back here." 

"No! You tricked me!" Vinnie felt hot tears prickle in his eyes. How could he have been so damn stupid! This was the same son of a bitch that lured him into that debt trap in the first place! 

"Baby boy, I did no such thing. Daddy loves you very much," Paul said calmly, opening his arms up as if he expected Vinnie to give him a hug. 

"Shut up, you sick fuck!" Vinnie screamed at the top of his lungs, tears gushing out. Paul didn't want to help him! He just wanted to exploit him! 

Paul's lip twitched as he gave an annoyed look, dropping his arms to his sides in a huff. "Baby boy, we don't use that kind of language when addressing Daddy! I'll let this slide this one time only because you're new." 

"I can't believe I trusted you! You said you were going to help me," Vinnie sobbed, shaking his head.

"Baby boy, I am. Everything I said, I truly meant it. I want to be the best Daddy ever to you," he cooed, trying to pull Vinnie in a hug again. 

"Fuck you! Go to hell you sick bastard!" Vinnie shrilled, bitch slapping Paul across the face. 

"Ow! You little shit!" Paul shrieked, gripping the assaulted side of his face. "Vinnie! Get back here!" 

The tile clicked like rolling waves of cannon fire under his boots as Vinnie ran out of the kitchen. There wasn't any time to look back. He could only run now.

"Bill! The door!"

Vinnie grit his teeth as he stopped before the driver, firmly planted in front of the front door. A gleam from his hand revealed brass knuckles, which made Vinnie back up ever so slightly. 

"Yo- You're going to hurt me!" He shouted back at Paul as he calmly approached him.

"I'm not, I swear. This is just going to last a few months, Vinnie. It's how most of my competitors pay their debt off to me." 

"By being sex slaves!?" 

Paul made a face. "Well, that's a very rotten way to put it. You're being helped in the best way, Vinnie. Please don't run. I'll have to tackle you."

Vinnie shook uncontrollably. He was on the verge of a panic attack. He had to get the hell out of there! Scanning the room, he saw an open window in another room. In a flash, Vinnie bolted into the next room. 

"Where the hell are you going?" Paul shouted, giving chase with Bill in tow.

Vinnie managed to shut the door and lock it, propping a chair under the knob to prevent the two from breaking in easily.

"Vinnie, open this damn door now!" Paul hollered, pounding on the other end. 

The door knob rattled around as the door opened just enough for Bill to reach his hand through to push the chair out of the way. Vinnie wasted no time in hurling himself out the window, nearly tripping over himself in the process. 

"Mr. Stanley! He's in the garden!" Bill cried out.

"No! He'll trample my peonies!" 

With wet grass under his boots, Vinnie skirted across the garden path, desperately looking for an out. Ten foot high fences lined the walls of Paul’s backyard, though. "Give me a break...!" 

"Vinnie, stop running! You're making this worse."

Screw you, pal, Vinnie glared back at the shrill sound of that voice. There had to be a gate around here somewhere. There! Near the shed! Vinnie could cry as he dashed through some bushes to reach it.

Vinnie's pounding heart rang through his ear drums as he ran. The taste of blood was evident in his mouth. Tired as he was, he refused to stop running. He'd escape or die trying. Just as Vinnie reached the gate, he was abruptly tackled to the ground. 

"Nooooo! Let me go!!!" Vinnie wailed, thrashing about, but it was no use, Paul was much stronger than he was, effectively pinning him to the ground. 

"Bill, lock the gate and be sure to fire the idiot who left it open!" Paul ordered, using his head to gesture to the open gate while both of his hands were occupied with Vinnie. 

Vinnie continued wiggling about until Paul pushed his face down into the dirt. "You have just made a serious mistake, my friend. A very serious, stupid one," he hissed.

Bill jogged up behind them and firmly shut and locked the gate, giving it a good push and pull. Vinnie whined. It was a show. A performance meant to demonstrate how escape was impossible now. 

That can't be the only way out, Vinnie looked on as Bill flipped on the electric circuit to the gate's bars. There had to be a different route. He would find it, come hell or high water.

"Bill, take this naughty boy up to the bathroom and clean him off. Give him new clothes out of his suitcase. He doesn't deserve fine silks tonight." Paul huffed as he put more pressure down on Vinnie’s head.

"Let’s go, Mr. Cusano! Any more trouble out of you and I will not hesitate to put the hurt on you, got it?" He growled, pulling Vinnie up by the scruff of his neck.

Vinnie cried out in pain. 

"Do I make myself clear?" Bill threatened again, giving Vinnie a daring look. 

"Yes! I… I won’t be any more trouble," Vinnie whimpered. Before he knew it he was dragged back into the mansion and thrust into a bathroom. Bill stood watch while Vinnie hesitantly cleaned himself up and changed. Once he was all clean, Bill ordered him to wait on his bed for his master.

He stood there, menacingly, in the corner the entire time. Bill was no longer the smiling, silent driver. This was a man whose loyalty to their master far exceeded any compassion for his fellow man. Vinnie sat on the corner of the bed, staring at his feet. Bill told him not to bother with socks. An odd thing to say, but it wasn't like he minded it. The plush rugs were plenty warm, and it was the only good thought to have entered his mind since he ate. As if on cue, Vinnie’s stomach growled. A shaky hand rose to it atop his striped pajama shirt and rested atop it. Paul had been keeping him waiting for well over an hour. As dinner time fast approached, Vinnie looked at the door, frustrated greatly once more.

Finally, the door opened and in walked a very disgruntled Paul, whose icy glare was enough to freeze Vinnie's blood.

"How bad was the damage, Mr. Stanley?" Bill asked softly; his eyes remained locked on Vinnie.

"Well, he trampled a path through the peonies and even crushed a marigold. Thankfully, the roses were left unscathed."

Bill nodded. "I'll be sure to inform the gardeners first thing in the morning." 

"Thank you, Bill," Paul sighed. "Would you mind stepping outside the room? I'm afraid I'm going to have to teach my baby boy a lesson." 

Bill gave an affirmative nod and exited the room, shutting the door. Vinnie felt another sob escape his throat. Dark eyes tightened their gaze on the shrinking guitarist. His hands shakily wrapped around the post of the queen canopy bed, as if he expected Paul to yank him down to the floor. Instead, Paul passed him by and made a slow stride to his vanity. 

"I didn't expect you to react so... violently to our game, Vinnie. I won, you lost. It's not a hard concept." he said, looking at him in the mirror. "Do you have siblings? Haven't you ever lost a game to them and had to do their chores for a week?"

Vinnie shook his head. Paul rolled his eyes as he adjusted his lipstick. "Mmhm, are you not telling me, or are you just wanting to cooperate?”

Vinnie saw the door in the corner of his eye. Was Bill waiting outside? Maybe just maybe... 

"Don't think about it," Paul said calmly, still checking himself out in the mirror. "You're already in a world of trouble right now. Believe me, I can bring you to heaven or I can drag you down into the deepest pit in hell. Your choice." 

"Pl- Please, Mr. Stanley! Please, I'm sorry I hit you and trampled your flowers, but please… don't do this.”

"Begging won't get you anywhere tonight, darling." Paul smiled as he rose from his seat. "Tonight was supposed to be loving cuddles and a movie, just something easy to help you adjust." 

"C- Can't we just do that?" Anything seemed better than when Paul reached for a leather belt in his nightstand drawer. 

Vinnie flinched at the very idea that Paul had in mind. "No! No, please. I- I don't--" 

"After being so submissive to me, are you really going to claim you're not about this?" Paul cracked the belt together. The sharp smack sent Vinnie scooting back to the other end of the bed. "C'mon. The sooner your punishment is through, the sooner we can have dinner." 

"I- I'm not hungry! I don't want your dinner!

"Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie," Paul replied in a cold, condescending tone. "Good boys get sweets. Naughty boys get punished. You've been very naughty tonight disrespecting Daddy and his personal property. You need to be taught a lesson… for your own good."

Vinnie curled himself up in a defensive ball, hoping, just praying this was all just a sordid nightmare and he'd wake up any minute. "Please, Mr. Stanley! Please… Please! Just let me help the gardeners, I'll do the housework… please anything but this..."

Paul whacked the belt so hard against the bedpost it made a loud crack, causing Vinnie to jump up in fear.

"Enough!" Paul snapped. "Remove your pants and underwear and lay face down on the bed with your hands up on the bed frame."

Green eyes jerked to the main bedroom door again. Maybe there was a chance Bill wasn't watching it. Maybe. Just a small chance. There was every opportunity in the world he was, though, and the idea of making Paul even angrier tonight had Vinnie complying. Without sound, his pants and briefs hit the bedsheets. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to cover himself, and thankfully Paul wasn't looking at him. His hand swooped in and collected the clothes. 

"You may have these back afterwards." 

"Don't make me do this..." 

"Bad boys must learn." Paul said, motioning him down on the bed. "Not even Peter trampled my flowers, though... Such a hard start with you."

Vinnie knew there was no way in hell he could take on Paul. He had proven himself to be faster and stronger. There really was no other way than to comply with his demands. Vinnie trembled as he crawled onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow with his hands firmly pressed up against the bed frame. He heard Paul pull something out of a nearby drawer and suddenly Vinnie felt something cold and metallic fasten around his wrists. He looked up in horror. Paul had handcuffed his wrists to the bedpost. Vinnie quivered in fear. Paul slowly dragged the belt buckle up and down Vinnie's ass. The cold metal sent goosebumps to his skin. He shivered, tensing up in defense.

"Stop acting so coy. I saw the way you looked at me at the casino and in my own home. You know you want this. Deep down you know you're a naughty boy and you deserve to be punished. SAY IT!" Paul screamed out the last bit.

"I… I'm a naughty boy and I deserve to be punished," Vinnie said sadly. His voice sounded so small.

Smack! 

"You say it louder, like you mean it!" Paul snapped at him.

Vinnie jerked upward, twisting as his skin caught up with being struck. He gasped and tugged at the handcuffs, making them rattle louder than Paul’s words. 

"Try it again!"

"I- I'm a naughty b- boy and I deserve to be punished," Vinnie stuttered out before Paul struck his backside again. He bit his cheek and cried as it was quickly followed up by two more rapid strikes. 

"Keep going." 

"I- I'm sorry! I'm sorry I caused some damage!" 

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Paul smirked, lashing down at him again. "You wanted to be spanked with a belt, you lil' masochist."

"Ow! Ahhh!" Vinnie cried out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Holy shit, his ass was on fire! But the strangest thing of all was that Vinnie was hard. Rock hard. 

Paul struck him again. 

"Y… yes. I like it," he admitted out loud, bucking his hips.

Paul chuckled darkly. "Looks like you're the sick fuck, Vinnie. You allowed yourself to get seduced into this seedy deal and now you've willingly allowed yourself to get tied up and spanked. And...oh my! What’s this? You’re so hard too! Tell me baby boy, how does this make you feel?" He leered. 

Oh, this bastard was enjoying Vinnie's torment a little too much. 

"S...So vulnerable! Humiliated..." Vinnie sobbed, still writhing in pain.

"Who's your daddy, Vinnie?" Paul grinned, whacking him again.

Vinnie clenched his teeth, burying his face in the pillow. Shame began to rise and overtake him. His body shook from pain and all the humiliation that Paul kept throwing at him. Ruby lips wandered down close to Vinnie’s long hair, nearing his ear, then pressed against it. "Who's your daddy?"

"Don't make me say it..." Vinnie whined, leaning into the soft touch, regardless. "I- I'm not ready..."

Smack!

Vinnie bit his lip, shaking his head. 

Smack! 

Vinnie bit down hard enough to draw blood this time.

Smack!

Vinnie cried out for mercy. He was sure the belt broke the skin on his tender ass this time. He couldn’t take any more… he was at his breaking point. "You are, Paul! You're my daddy!" 

Paul paused, satisfied at what he just heard.

"Convince me," he taunted. 

Oh God, this bastard was trying to kill him... When Vinnie didn't speak, he saw Paul raise the belt once more. "You're my daddy, Paul! I'm a naughty boy who deserves to be punished for being such a brat. I promise to be the best baby boy ever! Please Daddy. I'm sorry! Your naughty baby boy will do anything… ANYTHING!"

Paul held his hand up to his cheek, cooing over his new plaything. "That's wonderful to hear, precious jewel." It wasn't enough to spare him from another hit. 

Smack!

Vinnie howled, but his hips jerked down against the bed. The burning was turning, twisting into something he hadn't felt in ages. He couldn't think, couldn't figure why it was happening now. The domination was just too much, too wonderful. And without warning, Vinnie came.

"Look at you~" Paul purred, "Rocking back 'n forth for Daddy. However, I didn’t give you permission to cum, you dirty little slut.”

Smack!

“I’m sorry, Daddy! Please forgive me for being such a dirty little slut.”

Vinnie was in excruciating pain but he couldn't be more aroused than he was right now. He winced when he felt Paul apply a cooling gel to his sore ass. He screamed out from the stinging sensation. It hurt, but damn did it feel good too. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was this bondage turning him on so much?

"Awww it's okay, baby boy, it's all over now," Paul cooed, unfastening the restraints. Vinnie whined as his arms fell by his sides with a thump. "You're going to be a good boy from now on for Daddy, yes?" He smirked, admiring the bright red whelps across Vinnie's ass. A good day's work, he thought wryly.

Vinnie nodded and spoke through the tear stained pillow. "Yess! *hiccup* I will be a good boy for Daddy!" 

Paul patted Vinnie's abused ass gently, causing the smaller man to shiver from the touch. "That's my baby boy. I'll be right back with your dinner."

As soon as Paul left the room, Vinnie wept. He had sacrificed his dignity for erotic pleasure, but at what cost?


End file.
